No, I... I don’t remember the place... There was... I think there was a tall dim ceiling, with a moulded rose and cornice... single bulb on a wire... No, there wasn’t a lampshade... I think there was a picture-rail... cream-painted, like the ceiling... and the wall below was green... plain mid-green sort of colour... I could smell something... sharp in my nose... vinegar, was it? I don’t know... The floor I was lying on was a long stretch of bare boards... old, worn, grubby... no paint or varnish except round the sides of the room where they were stained dark... Furniture? I don’t recall any... There was a tall sash window, no curtains... dark outside... No, I don’t remember any moon... quite black, as if outside there was nothing... nothing at all. Ah, wait a minute... yes, there was a chair... sofa, was it?... chaise longue... right next to me... didn’t see it till I moved my head... old, battered-looking turned legs, I could see the worm holes... no castors... worn faded gold brocade, turning greenish, with horsehair or coir or something busting out here and there... ah yes, that’s what I could smell, it was all musty... then looking under it, I could see the door... several yards away... big double doors, painted a dull matt eau-de-nil colour, with panel mouldings that might once have been gold... you could see the marks where the finger-plates had been, and the handles should have been ornate but seemed to be just round brown plastic knobs... I think... that’s what I seem to remember but... I don’t know... I’m not... really... sure...
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